by Jodi Vaughn
“I think that might be too dressy.” Heather touched the sleeve of the silky material.
“Help me dig around until we find something.”
They dug around, checking out each item.
“I think this will do.” Agnes held out a mocha-colored lace top. “You can wear this with your jeans. Plus, it will draw attention away from your shoes.” She gave her a cheery smile.
Heather took it.
“Get in the back seat of my car and change your shirt. I’m always parked on the other end of the parking lot. No one will see you here.”
“Are you sure?” Heather looked around. Everyone was filing into the church like ants. No one was milling around the parking lot.
“Yes. Now hurry. I’ll be inside.” Agnes grabbed her vest and shoved it in the back of the box.
“Hey, I have to give that back to Elizabeth.” Heather gave her a wide-eyed look.
“No, you’re not. I’m burning it. She won’t miss it. Now get changed.” Agnes shut the trunk and marched toward the white building.
Heather groaned and slid into the back seat of the older model car. She shut the door behind her. It smelled of an odd combination of honey and mothballs. She took one more glance and quickly took off the puffy shirt and tossed it on the floor. She slid the lacey shirt on and quickly buttoned it up.
“What are you doing?”
She froze at the familiar male voice. Clenching the shirt together, she jerked her head to the right. Grayson was bent down, peering inside.
“Jerk,” she muttered and turned her back on him and stepped out of the car. “Do you make it a habit to spy on women? You know there is a law against watching women undress.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You were undressing?”
“No, you idiot. I was getting dressed.” She blinked. The words didn’t sound any less innocent.
He stared at her.
“I was changing my shirt, if you have to know.”
“Why were you changing your shirt?” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her hard, like he didn’t believe her.
She opened the door to the back seat and pulled out the puffy shirt. “Because Elizabeth gave me this shirt to wear.”
He frowned.
“It was her daughter’s. From twenty years ago. Agnes took pity on me and gave me a shirt her niece sent for a silent auction.” She lifted her chin, daring him to challenge her.
“Why did Elizabeth give you clothes?” He narrowed his eyes and threw the shirt into the back seat of the car.
“Because all I have are T-shirts and jeans. I may not have been in a lot of churches, but I know how they work. People judge you when you don’t have nice clothes.”
His gaze drifted down the front of her.
“Is there anything else or do I have your permission to go inside?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
He held up his hands in a defensive gesture and took a step back.
She tried to storm away but her platform heel went sideways on the gravel of the church parking lot. She felt herself falling.
Suddenly large hands were around her waist, and she found herself pressed into a hard chest.
“You okay?” He looked down at her with those hard blue eyes.
Her breath hitched in her throat. She put her hands flat against his chest and pushed him away.
“I’m fine. Thank you.” Her words were low.
“Nice shoes.”
She cringed as she opened the door and headed inside.
Chapter 13
Grayson tried to ignore the twist of guilt in his gut.
He hadn’t meant to hurt Heather’s feelings. He just wanted to make sure she wasn’t trying to steal anything from Agnes’ car. Harland Creek was a small town and crime was a rare thing. He just wanted it to stay that way.
When he saw the ugly shirt and shoes that looked like something his mom had worn, he knew she had been telling the truth. What he wanted to know was, why didn’t a woman as beautiful as Heather not own any decent clothes?
He followed her into the church at a safe distance.
She quickly found Elizabeth in the front row and sat just as the choir started singing.
“Hey, man. Didn’t think you were going to make it on time.” Sam stood and slapped him on the back.
Grayson slid into the pew between him and Olivia. “Yeah. I was just getting to know the new girl.”
Sam snorted. “I bet you were.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Grayson glared.
Sam held his hands up. “I’m not judging. I think it’s great you are getting back out there in the dating pond. It’s time you moved on.”
“I moved on a while ago.” Grayson glanced over at the Fran Gleason’s son sitting next to him to check out the page number. He flipped the hymnal to the correct page. He tried singing the hymn, but he couldn’t stop looking at Heather and studying her every move.
She opened the hymn book only after Elizabeth handed her one. She didn’t sing along, and he wondered if she even knew the words. He was not the only one who was curious about the new girl.
After the pastor stepped up to the pulpit, everyone quieted.
Sloan Jackson and his sister Allison were studying Heather. As a policeman, Sloan would want to know about the stranger in town. Knowing Allison, she’d probably want to bake her a casserole, if she had the time. She’d been busy lining up jobs as an interior decorator in Harland Creek.
Sitting next to Sloan was his best friend, Mitch Woods. He wasn’t as close to Mitch as he was Sloan. As a contractor, Mitch ran in the same circles as Sam. Sam preferred new construction while Mitch was content with remodeling jobs.
Grayson frowned. Mitch was single and good-looking. And he couldn’t stop looking at Heather.
“If you hold that hymnal any tighter, you are going to tear it in half,” Sam whispered.
Grayson looked at his white-knuckled grip on the book. He shut the book and glared at his friend.
“What’s wrong with you? You’re acting so grumpy. Did you not eat before you got here? Are you hangry?” Sam arched his eyebrow.
Gertrude Matthews turned around and glared at both of them. “If you two don’t keep it down, I’m going to slap you into next week.” She turned to face the front of the church and gave them her gray bun.
Sam snorted and lowered his voice. “I haven’t been reprimanded in church since I was ten.”
Grayson felt a smile tug at his mouth. He pressed his lips into a thin line.
Grayson couldn’t keep his mind focused on the sermon. Instead, he found his thoughts on Heather.
Chapter 14
Heather’s stomach growled as they drove back to Elizabeth’s house. She put her hand over it to keep it from being so loud. “What do you feel like for lunch?” She glanced over at Elizabeth.
“We could make some fried chicken and mashed potatoes. I’ll even show you how to make biscuits.” Elizabeth nodded.
“But won’t that take hours?” She didn’t know if she wanted to wait that long. “We could do some sandwiches.”
“Not on Sunday. Besides, if you’re going to do something right, it takes time.” Elizabeth nodded.
Anxiety tingled at the base of Heather’s spine. She had eaten her oranges that she’d kept in her room. But she still had peanut butter, she reminded herself.
“How did you like church?”
“It was fine. People seemed… friendly.”
Elizabeth laughed out loud. “You mean nosy. I saw how everyone surrounded you and kept asking you questions.” She shrugged. “In a small town, anytime someone new moves in, people are naturally curious.”
“Apparently,” Heather muttered and turned into the driveway leading to the house.
“I noticed Agnes gave you a different shirt.” Elizabeth nodded.
“Yeah, sorry. It’s just…”
Elizabeth held up her hand. “No need to apologize. I may know flowers, but I have no idea about what young
women wear these days. Back when I was growing up, it didn’t matter what you wore as long as it covered you up.” She nodded finally.
Heather snorted.
Elizabeth gave her look.
She pulled up close to the house and got out. She got the step stool out of the back and positioned it in front of Elizabeth’s door.
“I think we got this system down pat,” Elizabeth said as she made her way down. “Now, let’s get inside and change into something more comfortable. Then we’ll get to cooking. Make sure you get your recipe notebook and write down every step. You’ll want this meal in your arsenal when you have a family of your own.” Elizabeth smiled and slowly made her way inside.
Heather climbed the stairs to her room. She stood in front of the mirror hanging on the door.
A family of your own.
Is that something she would ever have?
She shook her head and forced those thoughts away.
Right now, she needed to make sure she was accepted into Harland Creek before she thought beyond that.
She quickly changed into her jeans and T-shirt and sneakers. She opened her jar of peanut butter and scooped a small spoonful and ate it.
That would tide her over until the chicken was done.
Grabbing her floral notebook, she bounded down the stairs.
Chapter 15
Heather bolted up in bed at the sound of her alarm clock. She reached for her phone and shut off the annoying buzzer. She was used to jerking away at any slight noise. But since she’d been at Elizabeth’s, the sound of birds and croaking of frogs soon lulled her to sleep instead of keeping her awake.
She crawled out of bed and found her sweatpants on the floor. She slipped them on under her T-shirt. She pulled the drawstring tight to keep the pants from falling, then bent down and rolled up both pant legs.
She glanced over at the shirt draped carefully over the back of the chair. She’d never worn anything as nice as the shirt Agnes let her borrow. She was thankful to the older woman. She might have felt out of place in the church yesterday, but at least she hadn’t looked out of place.
After the service, Olivia had come over and introduced a beautiful blond woman named Allison. Allison had complimented her on her shirt and welcomed her to the town. She was also introduced to the preacher and his wife, although she had forgotten their names. She’d been so nervous to get back to the farm that the majority of the names eluded her.
The only reason she remembered Allison and Olivia’s names is they seemed to be around her age and they’d been really nice to her.
Grayson had even come up and introduced Mitch to her. Mitch was completely different than Grayson. While both men were handsome, Mitch was warm and friendly and didn’t press her too much with personal questions. Unlike Grayson who put his nose into other people’s business.
She didn’t mind as long as he kept it out of her business.
She hurried downstairs and started the coffee pot. While she sat at the kitchen table, she made some notes.
Today they would be harvesting flowers and putting them in a refrigerated truck that was arriving from Memphis. A company from Tennessee would be delivering them to various florists within the state. According to Elizabeth, they could only harvest in the mornings or evenings to keep the flowers at their freshest. Elizabeth had numerous large buckets in the barn they would use to keep the cut flowers in water.
She’d gone over her notes on how to cut the flower at a forty-five-degree angle and to remove any extra leaves below the water line.
Heather stood and grabbed two mugs out of the cabinet and poured herself a cup. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It wasn’t even five thirty yet.
She’d wanted to get up before the sunrise so she’d be ready to harvest at the first rays of light.
It was still dark outside. She peeked into Elizabeth’s room. The old woman was still snoring, and Heather didn’t have the heart to wake her up.
She grabbed her coffee and notebook and padded to the front porch. The screen door screeched, and she cringed at the noise.
She tiptoed over to the wicker rocker and sat.
The cool morning breeze made her shiver, but she was glad of it. Being out in the country made her feel alive, as if she were living for the first time in her life.
She didn’t miss the smells of the city or the hardness of the buildings. Out here, it was different.
Everything was bursting with color and green grass. And the air smelled different, somehow sweeter.
She’d taken to leaving her window open as she slept. There was a time when she would never do that, for she knew the danger that could come through a window, whether it be a weapon or stranger intent on evil.
She didn’t feel that here. Here she felt safe.
Here she felt at home.
Last night she’d even unpacked her few shirts and put them in an empty drawer. She still hadn’t been able to unpack her backpack, but at least it was a start.
Endlessly moving around and not getting comfortable in one place had always made her feel like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Harland Creek felt different. Something about the countryside pulled at her as if asking her to stay.
She shook her head. She couldn’t bank on that, not just yet. She had to figure out how to line up another job once Elizabeth was better. Maybe she could find another elderly woman who needed help.
Her thoughts drifted back to Mrs. Ruth, and Atlanta, and promises that had been broken.
She did not miss her last job. Working in a dry cleaner had been hard and hot work, especially in the summer months of Georgia. It was little pay, but they didn’t need you to have a college education and hard work was rewarded. The owner, Mr. Griffin, had given her a small room in the back with a small cot. He’d seen the late hours she worked and told her she could spend the nights there if she ever worked late. He didn’t like her walking to the bus stop after eleven. The city was too dangerous.
She’d been living with two other roommates who had aged out of the foster system in a low rent but cramped apartment. She managed to make the rent most months but barely had enough money left over for food. When Mr. Griffin had given her the back room to sleep in, she made it permanent and moved out of the apartment. He hadn’t said much about her practically living there. Why would he? She got up early and worked late into the night. She was his most productive employee. She hadn’t made any friends with her work ethic, but she didn’t care. She had to survive, and saving money until she could figure out her future was of utmost importance.
Her life changed the day Ruth came into the dry cleaner with a lacy tablecloth.
She would always bring in tablecloths to get cleaned.
She was a twig of a woman, with white hair and an infectious smile. She always made Heather’s day brighter when she came in.
One day, she called instead of coming in, asking if her dry cleaning could be delivered. Mr. Griffin, the kindhearted man he was, told Heather to deliver it in one of the business cars.
When Heather pulled up to her house, she was amazed at the little yellow house with a picket fence.
When she rang the doorbell, Ruth answered the door with a walker.
She’d gotten dizzy and fallen. Her doctor recommended she get someone to stay with her, but instead she’d gotten a walker. She invited Heather in. She hesitated at first, but Ruth was insistent and called Mr. Griffin so she wouldn’t get in trouble.
They’d had tea and cookies on pretty china and delicate cups.
It was her first tea party.
She smiled to herself as she thought about the memory.
“Something amusing?”
The deep tone of Grayson’s voice startled her. She pressed her hand to her chest and jumped up out of the chair. “I didn’t hear you drive up.”
“That’s because I didn’t. I rode my horse over.” He pointed to a chestnut-colored horse tied up by the big tree in the backyard.
Her
gaze darted from him to his horse. She leveled a glare at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m helping Elizabeth with the harvest today.” His boots made heavy thuds on each step.
“She said she had some volunteers coming. I thought she was talking about the high school students.”
He grinned and for a moment she forgot how much she disliked him. “They are. We got about ten coming. Excited about getting out of school for the day. I know she’s moving a little slow these days so I thought I would come lend a hand. I usually do it when I’m harvesting for Olivia’s shop.” He shrugged.
“How very neighborly.”
“You know what would be neighborly? Some of that coffee. Ms. Elizabeth says you make great coffee.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened.
“Yeah. I can get it myself.” He reached for the screen door handle.
“Wait.” She jumped up. “I’ll do it. I don’t want you waking her up with your loud boots.”
She padded inside and headed for the kitchen. She quickly poured him a cup of coffee. She grabbed a few packets of sugar and the ceramic cow pitcher of cream.
She slipped outside.
He had sat in the wicker chair beside hers. She held out the coffee.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“I didn’t know if you wanted anything in your coffee.” She set the sugar and cream on the little table beside his chair.
“Thank you.”
She watched him dump two packets of sugar and pour some cream into his coffee.
“By the look on your face, you don’t know many men that take their coffee like that.”
“I don’t know many men at all, so I have no opinion on the subject.” She curled her feet underneath her and took a sip of her coffee.
“How are you up so early?”
“How are you?” she countered.
“I usually get up this early. I feed my cows and check on my other animals.”